


bubblegum

by astratic



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Pre-Canon, aside from flashbacks, but i wrote it way before that, i do enjoy the fact that my image of bonnie as a scrapper is canon, idk if this makes sense as of the episode "bonnibel bubblegum", kinda? takes place before the events of the show anyway, teen rating is for 1 (one) f word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 00:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13752315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astratic/pseuds/astratic
Summary: She calls herself a scientist. To you she looks more like a scavenger.





	bubblegum

She calls herself a scientist. To you she looks more like a scavenger.

She trawls ruins and wreckage looking for bits of machinery and electronics, things she can Frankenstein together into some invention or other. She seems disinterested in companionship, but you hang around anyway. You save her skin a couple times, not that she seems to care. She could be made of spun sugar for all the toughness of her looks, but her brazen demeanor makes you think underneath she must be built of sturdier stuff.

Sugar is literal. You haven’t gotten close enough to touch yet, but her hair looks to be made of actual bubblegum, the kind your mother used to give you that made the satisfying ‘snik’ when your fangs sliced into it. You’ve seen a lot of bizarre creatures around these days, but the sweet miasma that surrounds your reluctant travelling partner is a new affront to your senses entirely. One you might just…get used to.

“'Bubblegum’?” She says the word as if it’s preposterous.

“Yeah, y'know…” you trail off and motion blowing a bubble and popping it, making the noise with your lips.

“Bubblegum,” she repeats thoughtfully, digging through a pile of scrap metal, “I haven’t come across the substance in my reading.”

You laugh and drift above her, lifting a heavy piece of pipe and freeing the piece she’s after, “It wouldn’t be in your chemistry books. It’s candy. Like for little kids.”

She holds the bit of scrap up, studying it, “I had gathered that,” she deadpans, looking sideways at you. She casts the piece aside. Not what she needs, “It really is a shame, all this knowledge lost to time.”

“Heh. I’m still here.” You let your voice go soft, watching her. There aren’t many things this delicate anymore.

“I’m aware. You’re in my way,” her brusque tone startles you out of your daydream, and you drift off to the side. You shiver as her hand brushes your thigh.

You flip over and float above her, pulling your bass around in front and strumming a few notes, “Bonnibel, my bubblegum girl, searching for meaning in a fucked-up world—” you break off and glance down at the flush on her cheeks. Lazing closer, you continue, “She says she has answers, she never has fun, but she’s the coolest thing I’ve seen in a couple _hun_ dred years…”

You let the line trail off, drifting ever so closer to her until your noses are a few inches shy of acquainted.

“You can’t rhyme the middle of a word like that,” she says, too breathless for her skepticism to hold water.

“I don’t like rules.”

“But you like me.” It’s not a question. You laugh a little, nervously.

She kisses you first, and it shocks you. It’s clumsy: a smacking, sugary collision of a kiss. It knocks you backward a few inches. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, blushing like children.

You start to speak at the same time. Stop. Apologize. Twiddle your thumbs.

Finally you can’t stand it anymore. You grab her around the waist and kiss her again, lifting her feet off the ground.

You’re careful with your fangs but still prick her once or twice. She doesn’t seem to mind. Your bass is awkwardly sandwiched between the two of you, digging into your stomach and arm. Overall, it’s kind of weird and not that amazing.

But, oh, you’ve wanted to do this for so long. You’ve lived for centuries, but everything before Bonnibel seems so far away. Dull in comparison. Nothing had color until she was pink.

And she tastes so sweet, just like you’d dreamed.

“Marceline,” she says, and you revel in the way your name sounds on her tongue. “Marceline,” she repeats, and you realize you’re staring at her, daydreaming, holding her there in the air. You blink and return her to the ground.

Freed, she reaches up and places her delicate, saccharine fingers against your cheek, “I’m 'your bubblegum girl’?”

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted on tumblr [here](http://azurenoon.tumblr.com/post/140253330883/bubblegum)


End file.
